


If I can stop one heart from breaking

by BloodyMary



Series: Jedi June [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grieving, Jedi recruitement, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyMary/pseuds/BloodyMary
Summary: Jedi Seeker Sola Neves comes to Corellia to check on a Force sensitive child, but she finds more than that.
Series: Jedi June [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776187
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	If I can stop one heart from breaking

Sola had been a Seeker for a few years now, but it was her first time on Corellia. She’d left Coronet City with its spaceport and shipyards a few hours ago. It had been busy—busy as any capital and space port city. It had smelled and sounded of heavy industry.

But her goal had been outside of Coronet, in a mining village. A small community—she’d caused something of a stir as she left the rented speeder parked next to one of the houses that boasted rooms for rent. Several children stopped what they were doing to watch her. It was likely the only time in their lives that they’d see a Jedi—and while Sola’s robes were as practical as the clothes of the children’s parents, they marked her clearly as a Jedi. Otherwise, she was quite unremarkable—her face was pleasant to look at, but not one that’d inspire sonnets, and she was short and stocky.

Sola looked around, letting the Force guide her. Yes, there was a Force sensitive child here, and it was in distress. That made her steps brisk—she didn’t sense anything that’d indicate the child was actively being hurt, but that didn’t mean the situation didn’t warrant immediate intervention.

The house where she sensed the child from was a small prefab hab-unit. At one point, it had been decorated with geometric green patterns, but they were clearly faded. A mourning wreath hung on the door.

Sola knocked, her knuckles rapping on the metal of the door below the dried herbs of the wreath.

After a moment, the door creaked open and a middle-aged human man peered at her. He had dark rings under his eyes and a beard that badly needed trimming. Sola thought his skin looked paler than it should too, like he’d been avoiding leaving the house.

“Jedi Seeker Sola Neves,” she said with a bow. “May I come in?”

“Dag Sode,” the man replied, as he stepped aside to let her in. The house could be cleaner, Sola observed, but she saw no dangers to a child. Well, unless it was allergic to dust. And then she spotted a child—a dark-skinned human girl, no older than two. She was quietly playing with blocks, stacking them with a focused expression. Now that Sola was closer to her, she could pick up more—the girl was missing someone and had been soaking in her parent’s own pain. “Can I offer you something to drink, ma’am?”

“A glass of water would be most welcome,” Sola answered. She had folded her hands in the sleeves of her robe.

Dag looked at her for a moment, clearly undecided if he wanted to ask her why she was here or not. It seemed to her like he had a suspicion, but also didn’t want it confirmed.

“Are you here to take Zu?” he said finally. Then, without waiting for Sola’s answer he plunged on. “I can’t- You can’t do this. She’s all I’ve left of Kir and Hala.”

And there it was—the reason for the little girl’s distress. Not only had she lost two of her parents recently, but her remaining one was leaning on her in his grief. An understandable reaction, but one that would harm both father and child in the long run.

“That’s a heavy burden for such a little child to bear,” Sola replied. She kept her tone gentle—grief made this situation delicate. True, by Republic law, she could remove the child from her home, if she deemed it detrimental to her, but that didn’t mean she’d do it to a grieving father simply because he was grieving.

Not every Force sensitive child became a Jedi, after all.

Dag didn’t reply. He looked stricken, so Sola continued. “I’m not here to take her away. I’m here to offer the possibility to become a Jedi to her. Not all Force sensitive children become Jedi.”

“So… she can stay?” Dag asked.

“If this is the will of the Force, she will remain with you,” Sola replied. “You’re a caring man, Dag. I can sense it. You cared for Kir and Hala deeply, didn’t you?”

The man nodded. “We were… friends before we were married. Ever since we were children.”

And there it was. Sometimes, people needed to be reminded that no one was ever truly gone. A Jedi might tell another Jedi that the Force is with them, but there was more to it. If those had been Dag’s friends since his childhood, then he’d have lived through a whole life with them. Shared moments of happiness and grief.

And if Dag realized that, he would be making a step towards letting go of his suffering.

“Then surely, you have many memories of them,” Sola replied. “Can you tell me your favorite ones?”

He looked confused for a moment, but Sola’s gentle voice coaxed him to speak. And so he did. He told her about Hala, and how she first fought other children when they were cruel and later worked to keep the corporations from treating the miners unfairly. He told her about Kir and his love for animals.

And then, he looked at her, his presence in the Force like that of a sky that was slowly clearing. “You wanted me to realize that I’ve more left of them,” he said.

“Yes,” Sola said. “You have your memories.” She put her hand over his. “When my Master died, I thought I’d grieve forever. But I also knew she'd hate to see me do that. It was hard to let her go, but I did. And so must you.”

Dag nodded. “Thank you.”

Sola smiled at him. “And now, I’d like to talk with Zu.”

The man nodded. “If… she does become a Jedi, I hope she’ll be like her parents.”


End file.
